Be my valentine?
by c-westfall
Summary: Joshifer fanfic! Valentines day, from Josh's point of view.


Boom boom. Boom boom. My heart thudded in my chest, it's rhythm perfect, almost as if there was nothing to be nervous about. If only.

I had been planning this day for months, and until a week ago, it had seemed like a perfect idea. But for the past week, my optimism had deteriorated. It had shot straight down, like one of those less than vertical roller coasters. Scary, I know. I glance over at my clock. 9:59. In one minute, the flower company will deliver Jennifer's valentines present. Roses, teddy, chocolates. But she won't know who it's off. A series of riddles will take her to our favourite places, and finally I will wait in the place that I know will start it all. I sigh. If this works, everything will be great. If it fails, I'm screwed. Not literally. I glance over at my clock. 10:00. I take in a deep breath.

Knock knock.

My head jerks towards the front door. Who on earth could it be? I haul myself out of the chair, and make my way towards the door. I twist the key, then push the handle down. And I'm greeted by...a bouquet of roses? Who on earth were_ they_ off?

"Flower delivery for My Joshua Hutcherson," the delivery guy announces, as he reads off a purple clipboard.

"Er...thanks," I say in reply, as I take the roses off him. I peer at the card. Nothing, just a...riddle? "Who are these off?" I ask politely.

"I'm sorry, I can't say." And then, with a brief nod, he turns on his heel and leaves. I peer at the card again, and try to figure out who wrote it, but I have no clue.

_Skinny I am fast,_  
_fat I am slow,_  
_but I'll still delight you from your eyes to your nose._

_What am I?_

Really, I should be heading out towards the final destination. But I can't just reject someone's attempts. That leaves me with one option. I'll have to rush round, so I can still get to Jen. So I start to rack my brains. _Think Josh, think. _A candle! A candle? The local shop that sells the hundreds of nice selling candles. I grab my jacket and keys, yank the door open, hurry into my car, and drive off immediately. I arrive within ten minutes. Sure enough, under the candles (large, vanilla cookie) is the next riddle:

_Ripped from my ancestors home, beaten and burned, I become a bloodthirsty killer._

_What am I?_

A tad psychopathic, but I think of the answer pretty quick. Iron ore. Why iron ore? The local mine museum! Once again, I jump into my car, arrive at the museum, pay the entrance fee, rush to the section on iron...there! I tear it off from beside the plaque explaining something about a blast furnace.

_I can be dropped from the tallest of buildings and survive,_  
_but drop me from the smallest ship and I won't._

_What am I?_

Paper. Definitely paper. I groan. That could be anywhere. Where is paper primarily used? Schools. The first place I think is the school I once attempted to attend, so I hop in my car, and drive off. Taped to the gate is the next riddle, thank goodness.

_What time is spelled the same forwards and backwards?_

One? Quarter? Half. I almost scream in frustration, and I have to walk back to my car to calm down. Eventually I give in, and decide to go home. I check the clock, to see if I can still make it to Jennifer, and it reads noon. NOON! The answer is noon. With the hope that I'm near the end, I start off towards the big clock in town.

_Walk around _  
_Ride your bike _  
_Just watch out for _  
_Moms with tykes_

The park. Hang on...the park? That's the final place for Jennifer. Confusion fizzes through my veins, but I drive there anyway.

When I get out, I'm not sure where to go, so I mull around the bench by the flower beds, the same place Jen is supposed to meet me. Suddenly, I hear a call:

"Either this is a set up from someone, or great minds think alike. I'm going for the latter option." Jen is stood there, in jeans and a tshirt, a small amount of make-up, looking 100% perfect. She's grinning, that same contagious grin that I fell in love with.

"I'm going for the latter too," I say with a broad grin.

"I know it's supposed to be lady's first, but the romance department is for gentlemen," she says.

"So I'm a gentlemen now?" I ask. She nods her head. "Okay. Jennifer Lawrence, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. So, I was wondering, if, maybe, it doesn't matter if you don't, if you'd like to be my...valentine?" Her eyes light up.

"I thought you were never going to ask! _Of course_. I would _love_ to be your valentine." Relief floods through me. I offer my hand out.

"Care for a romantic stroll?" I say with a wink.

"A romantic stroll sounds_ perfect_ ."

In that moment, I feel as if the missing piece of me has been fixed, all because of my stunning Jen.


End file.
